The Story in Your Eyes
by NYgoldfish54
Summary: A companion piece/sequel to Behind Blue Eyes. Charlie realizes how Adam feels, and doesn't know what to do. Set in the Ducks' junior year. One-shot, mild slash.


**Title:** The Story In Your Eyes  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Setting: **the Ducks' junior year of high school.  
**Summary: **Charlie realizes how Adam feels, and doesn't know what to do.  
**Feedback: **go on, hit the review button, I dare ya!  
**Disclaimer: **The Ducks belong to Disney  
**Story Notes: **this is a companion piece (or a sequel, depending on how you look at it) to my Behind Blue Eyes story. I have re-uploaded this story for grammar and minor editing as of March 16, 2008, but there have been no real content changes. Like its predecessor, this story and its title were partially inspired by a song: 'The Story In Your Eyes' by the Moody Blues.

* * *

Has there ever been a moment in your life where everything changes in the blink of an eye?

That's what happened to me. Literally.

You see, it all happened when my friend Adam…wait, let me start from the beginning. It won't make sense if I start from the middle, and I don't know where else to start but the beginning. It's all so confusing, and I'm so confused.

Anyway, a couple weeks back a friend, hockey player, and fellow Duck, Fulton Reed twisted his ankle rather badly when his ice skate got caught in a rut. He was going to miss a few games due to pain and swelling, so I had to juggle the lines. Part of my job as captain is to help the coach with the lines and matchups.

Now, I love the game, but my friend Adam Banks lives for it. I don't think he's ever happier than when he's skating with control of the puck.

We've been friends a long time, Adam and me. I've known him since we were young, and have been friends with him since we were ten, going back to our years in the pee wee hockey leagues. Well, we've grown up. I'm a sixteen year old junior in high school at Eden Hall Academy in a suburb of Minneapolis, Minnesota. My friend Adam is almost seventeen, and he's a junior too. All the Ducks, our hockey team, are sixteen or seventeen and juniors. Anyway, my point is we're older than we were when we first met.

I know the teen years are all about self-discovery. Or at least, I'm told that. The only things that I've really discovered about myself since freshman year is that I don't adapt well to change and have a tendency to get rather angry about change. Or maybe I always knew it and it just never registered? I don't know. More things I don't know. Wonderful.

But even if I do know that stuff, how's it going to help me? The fact I know something is happening is not necessarily going to keep it from happening. But then again, maybe knowing about it _is_ a good thing. It's helping me get along with my girlfriend, which isn't so bad.

What I did learn that might be of some use is that girls are a lot more complex than I originally thought. I have this girlfriend named Linda. I've had her as a girlfriend since freshman year. Well, we've dated on and off since freshman year. A lot of our problems were my fault. I'm a real jerk sometimes. My pride and anger get in the way of a lot of my other emotions and good qualities.

Anyway, we've been dating on and off since freshman year. Now trust me, I know better than anyone that she can be a real bitch sometimes. I know the Ducks don't always like her much, but I like her. She's attractive – at least I think so – she's kind most of the time, and she's passionate.

She's the one out there fighting for more recycling bins and cleaning up the grounds around the pond outside. She campaigns for the fair treatment of animals and saving the rainforest. She organizes bake-sales to send money to the local Minneapolis orphanages. She'll haunt you until you donate a little pocket money. Some people find her annoying and obsessive. I think it's passionate, and I love her for it, which is why I'm trying to be a better boyfriend now. I understand her better. You need people like her in the world, or else things will never change.

It's ironic that I say that, with me being so bad at handling change, but I know what she's doing is worth it. Besides, I don't mind the rest of the world changing. It's my own little corner of the universe I have a problem with.

Even though I hate it, it's time for me to change again. It's probably the biggest change I've had to make since Bombay left, except this time, I feel confusion over what to do rather than anger at the situation. Maybe it's because he's my best friend, and no matter what the situation, it's hard to be angry and stay angry at your best friend.

Yes, it concerns Adam, if that's what you're thinking. You see, like I said, my friend Adam lives for hockey, and I've known him a long time. He's smarter about the game than I am, and better with strategy, so I asked him to help me with new combinations of people on the ice for the upcoming games without Fulton.

Sometimes I don't understand why I'm captain. Adam's the better player, the better strategist, and he works harder. He's the one being scouted by professional teams, not me. The hockey rink is his universe, and he rules it with absolute power. And yet, I am still captain of the Ducks. There must be something in me that I don't see. Bombay saw it and Orion saw it…although, whatever it is, I did make it difficult to see. I'm sure of that; I made life hard on them. You know, me and the change thing again. But, in spite of my pigheadedness, they both saw it. One day, I'll have to remember to ask them what it was.

Anyway, Julie was in there when I went in, and I asked what date Adam was getting ready for, because Julie had said that the girl would love his eyes.

Personally, I like Adam's eyes. They're very blue, and they tell a lot about him, which is really what's causing me so much trouble. But we'll get to that.

Anyway, he was zoning out, and I told him I thought his eyes were cool and that I could see why girls liked him. He also agreed to help me with the new strategy of on-ice combinations.

Then I left. And things went along smoothly until he came by to help me sort out our mess of a hockey team.

He knocked on the door of dorm room I share with Averman at six sharp. That's another thing about Adam that I've gotten used to. When it comes to hockey, Banksie is _always_ on time. When it comes to the rest of the world, he's always half hour late.

I was going to let Averman get it, but I remembered he'd gone out, so I opened up the door. I noticed the moment Banksie walked in something was the matter with him, but something fine at the same time. He was paler than usual, but his eyes were bright, the way they always are.

"What's the matter, Banksie?" I asked, grinning at him. "You're paler than usual."

"I am?" he asked, looking rather disbelieving. "Is that even possible?"

We always make cracks about how pale Adam is, because…well, he's so white. He's mayo on white bread. "You're such a white boy," Goldberg always jokes.

"Yeah, you look a little sick. Are you feeling alright?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I'm feeling fine. So, how long is Fulton out for?"

"About four games. Maybe three, maybe five, depends how quickly the swelling goes down," I answered.

"Ouch. Okay, well, we can move Guy to Fulton's left wing position and have Portman double shift on the third and fourth lines. He's usually a defenseman, but he can handle it."

"Yeah, but that leaves Portman's defensive slot open. I was thinking double shifting Russ on the third and fourth lines and having Luis take Fulton's spot."

Adam shook his head. "That's a good idea against the Raiders, but against Blake, Luis's speed is going to be necessary on the third line, since that's the line's particular weapon," he said.

It went back and forth like that for a while. Finally we decided to take it one game at a time, and that against Blake Averman would take Fulton's position, Portman would double shift on the second and third lines, while Dwayne would double shift on defense. We'd meet up after the game to see what worked and what didn't, we'd use what worked, and see if we can use it in the next game.

All in all, not a bad plan. Portman usually plays the point, but he can handle playing forward every once in a while. It will be interesting…okay, entertaining…to watch him getting more involved in fore-checking.

"So that's it, Banksie, see you at practice tomorrow," I grinned as he got up from the floor where he was sitting. He didn't do anything but smile in reply. I noticed again how pale he was, and of course, I had to ask. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he smiled again and headed toward the door. He opened it, stood there for a moment, and then closed it again. He turned back around to look it me and said, "Actually, I'm not."

"You're not what?" I asked, confused.

"I'm not fine," he said weakly. I knew it. He's sick.

"I see. What's the matter?" I asked, afraid he was going to be sitting out too and we'd have to rearrange the hockey team all over again.

"I…well, you see…I mean…" he stuttered and his voice sounded sort of choked, like he was struggling not to hurl. His face was unreadable.

"Do you need to throw up? You can use the bathroom," I gestured towards the bathroom Averman and I share. He's my best friend; of course he could use the bathroom. Besides, I didn't really want to clean puke off the carpet.

"I don't need to throw up," he half smiled, then changed his expression back to neutral. "Charlie, what do you do when you really love someone? Really, really love them?"

"Oh, Adam wants a girlfriend! Who is it?" I asked, completely ignoring his question.

"It's nobody, really. Just, what do you do to tell them?"

"Well, it depends, really, on who it is. For example, if it was Connie, you should tell her quietly and off to the side. If it was Julie, you should make a big deal and make it really sweet and stuff, because she loves that kind of attention," I explained. "Is it Connie or Julie?"

"No."

"Do you know her really well?" I asked, trying very hard to figure out what other girls Adam was really friendly with.

"Yeah, pretty well."

"Is it that girl Beth you went out with last night?" I asked, rather excited. Adam so rarely expressed interest in anyone that this could have been considered a special occasion.

"No it's not Beth," he mumbled.

"Cindy?"

"No."

"Jackie?"

"No."

"What does she look like?"

"Well, he's got curly brown hair and brown eyes and is pretty tall."

I thought about that for a second. What girls are tall, have curly brown hair and brown eyes? Hmmm…._he's got curly brown hair and brown eyes and is pretty tall._ Wait, wait, stop, hold the phone. _He_!?

"He?" I asked.

"I meant she," Adam said quickly. His eyes were sort of cloudy, and he was looking at my sneakers. Not my face. He was lying.

"No, I think you meant he," I said, my voice colder than I meant it to be. I was really too numb from his words to completely realize what was going on. I wasn't freaked out so much as annoyed that I was being lied to.

Adam didn't say anything for a while, and neither did I. "You're right," he said, taking a deep breath, "I meant he."

I still didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say. The shock of my best friend coming out to me hadn't really worn off. It's not so bad, really, I just didn't expect it.

We stood there in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two. Finally, my brain started to function again. "Okay," I said finally, putting on the most genuine smile I could. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Charlie," Adam said quietly, "Think about it."

_He's got curly brown hair and brown eyes and is pretty tall. He's got curly brown hair and brown eyes and is pretty tall. He's got curly brown hair and brown eyes and is pretty tall._ Who do I know like that? Hmmm…

"Think, Charlie, think," Adam said again. I thought…and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked at Adam, straight into his eyes, to see if it was true. And for those few eternally long seconds, I realized it. His eyes…they said it all. He didn't even have to say it verbally. It all made sense. His eyes told the whole story. It's me.

Then he blinked, I looked away, and I felt my whole life change. He smiled, turned, and left. I stood there gaping after him like an idiot at the door for what must have been a good three minutes, until Averman got back from wherever he was earlier.

"Charlie, dude, you alright?" Averman asked. "You look like you've just had a visit from the ghost of Christmas past."

"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine, Averman, thanks."

"All right…are you sure?"

"Yeah, certain."

"Okay…listen, the Bashes, Kenny, Russ, Julie, and I are going to see a movie. Want to come?"

"Uh, I think I'll stick around here for a while. I have a shit load of work to do," I said, lying a bit. I did have a shit load of work, but none that I was going to do…at least not that night.

"On a Saturday?" Averman looked shocked, "Okay, if you say so."

"Frightening, isn't it? Yeah, I'll stay here."

"I'm going to get out of here then, it's an 8:05 movie and it is 7:45. Plus the movie theatre is twenty minutes from here, and Fulton wants to see the previews."

"Portman's driving again, isn't he?" I asked, amused.

"Yes. I just hope he doesn't kill us."

"Yeah, so do I," I grinned. Portman's a pretty safe driver. He just does it too fast.

"Later, Captain," Averman waved.

"Bye."

The door slammed, Averman was gone again, and I was left to contemplate my situation in the silence of my Eden Hall dorm.

It's been two days. The Blake game is later tonight. I haven't been alone with Adam since. I'm not really avoiding him, but I'm not really going out of my way to talk to him either. In fact, he's avoiding me more than I'm avoiding him. That's really my problem now. I don't know what to do.

I don't handle change well. I never have, and now things are different. If they're not yet, then they're going to be soon. Usually I get angry at change, except I'm not mad at Adam for making this change. Hell, he's my best friend. How do you stay angry at your best friend?

I just don't like him in that way. I'm just not…gay. I feel terrible. I don't know what to do. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who knows Banks is the way he is. If I know Adam, he's scared. Off the ice, he's pretty self-conscious; I'd be surprised if anyone else knew.

This leaves me between a rock and a hard place. I can't tell anyone my predicament, because then Adam's secret is out. But in the mean time, I don't know what else to do. Am I supposed to be uncomfortable? Do I ignore it? Do I talk to him? Do I be disgusted? Do I be flattered? Somebody help me. What do I do!? I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

What are my own feelings about gay people? Well, I never really cared about them. I didn't dislike them, but I didn't go out of my way to fight for their rights either. I just never thought it would affect me; I never thought I'd be the object of some other guy's affections – let alone Banksie's affections. My opinion was always let them do what they want, as long as they're not hurting anyone. It's not so black and white anymore.

Then there's the Ducks. I don't know what they'd do if they found out if Adam wasn't straight. We've been friends a long time, and I'd like to believe that they'd all understand. But I've also learned over the years that people aren't always who you believe they are, not as understanding and gentle as you think. I wish I could promise the Ducks are the uncaring, unprejudiced people I've always thought, but I can't. I don't really want to find out. It could shatter my fancy, crystal dream of the Ducks and the people I thought they were. I'm only sixteen, and they're my best friends. I could lose them, and I need that dream. I can't handle not having that dream yet.

Also, a revelation of this magnitude, and the possible split it could cause, could send the entire team spinning into chaos. We could lose our scholarships. I need that free education. My mom and I aren't exactly rolling in the dough. None of us are. We need this education, this scholarship, this team. We hold each other together. None of us can afford to lose this now. It's too early, too soon, too damaging to lose.

The only thing I know for sure is that Adam's eyes don't lie. They tell a lot about him, if you know how to read them right. His eyes told the whole story. It's me. He loves me – in a romantic, non-brotherly type way. His eyes don't lie. I've always like his eyes for that. They tell about him.

And now, every time I look into Adam's eyes, I'm going to see that emotion, that feeling, that story. I don't think I want to ever want to see that again. It's just too hard, too confusing for me. I never thought that everything I've ever known would go flying out of control the way it has…and right now, I'm the only one who knows. Everything could be lost if anyone else finds out. I can't let that happen, but I'm not really wise enough to handle this. I'm not smart enough to know anything beyond my own confusion. I'm only sixteen.

It sounds selfish, and in some ways it is and in some ways it isn't, but I wish it wasn't me. It's not that I don't want Banksie to be who he is, but why is it me? I'm a boyfriend to a girl that I really adore. I'm the captain of a hockey team I love more than life itself. I'm a straight kid growing up in the 90s. Why couldn't Adam have picked a gay guy? Wouldn't that be easier? What's so enticing about me? I had to _talk_ Linda into going out with me the first time. Who in their right mind would pick me? I know you don't pick who you fall in love with, but why does this have to be me? This is a huge change in my life. God knows I suck at change. Why am I being forced to change this way? This must be karma for that thing Averman, Karp, Peter, and I did to that guy with the dog shit filled purse and the dollar. I always wondered when that was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

All joking aside, I really wish this wasn't me. I wish I didn't have to tell Adam how I don't feel anything but friendship – the strongest bonds of it, mind you – for him. I wish I didn't have to look in the eyes I've always liked, because they were so honest, and break the heart that goes with them. As confused and frightened as I am about the whole situation, I don't look forward to breaking his heart. That's never a fun job. I wish I didn't have to do that.

I'd never, ever thought that one day I'd wish I didn't have to look into the eyes of my best friend ever again. I never thought that I'd never want to look Adam Banks straight in the face again. Now, for the sake of everyone's sanities, if not just my own, I wish I didn't.


End file.
